Leroy Jethro Gibbs and the Reign of Voldemort
by iheartvolume
Summary: Voldemort has won the war. Only Hermione survives. Voldemort reveals himself to the muggle world in a deadly wave. No one is safe. But Leroy Jethro Gibbs has never been just "no one". Can the he keep his team safe? Can he save the world?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Italicized parts in paragraphs three, five, and nine, are excerpts from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling and have been used here without permission and with no intention of profiting from the use thereof.  
>Thank you for reading.<p>

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><p>"<em>Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."<em>

_None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his—_

_Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear—_

_He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone._

-Excerpt from page 704 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Hardback Edition), by J.K. Rowling.

To say that Hermione Granger was overwhelmed would be an understatement. She was running around the great hall from injured to injured, trying to help however she could, but there were so many, and the damage was so terrible…. She would not allow herself to think of the dead, of Fred, Remus, Tonks…. No. NO! She had to concentrate, focus on the task at hand, save as many as she could.

But despite her intense focus on healing, Hermione had also developed a sudden intense awareness of time. Time seemed to be on the side of the Dark, as he was moving far too quickly to be of any use to them. Hermione knew that their hour was almost up. She also knew that Harry no one had seen Harry in quite awhile. Hermione knew her friend well. She knew what was going to happen, what he was going to do. It would be foolish to think he would do otherwise. She would not allow herself to give up hope, despite the bleakness of the situation. She tried to steal herself for what she knew would come, but was brought suddenly out of her reverie by a voice booming and echoing through the hall. Voldemort.

"_Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."_

There was a muffled sob nearby, and Hermione knew it was Ginny. She herself felt indescribably sick to her stomach.

"_The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."_

Hermione was unconscious of ever moving to go outside, but suddenly she was there, surrounded by members of the Light, waiting, hoping, praying their hero wasn't really gone.

She heard Hagrid before she saw him, great sobs wracking his body, and her heart clenched in her chest. And then she saw him, laying limp and lifeless in Hagrid's arms, and she heard McGonnagol's cries, and Ginny's and Ron's, and then everyone was making terrible sounds of grief, and it was a moment before she realized that she was crying too, crying out for her friend and confidant and hero. She found it hard to breathe, felt constricted and oppressed by an overwhelming grief, the likes of which she had never experienced. She had seen death before, even among people she knew, but Harry had been her best friend, her brother…

Voldemort forced the crowd silent and began to speak again and she forced herself to listen. Hagrid was laying Harry at Voldemort's feet, his sobs silenced by a Death Eater's spell.

"_You see?" said Voldemort. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever…."_

Hermione stopped listening. She would not listen to this monster spout lies and slander about Harry.

But then Ron, sweet, brave Ron, cried out in contempt and defiance. He was the spark to the flame, and everyone was shouting, crying obscenities and words of obstinance. Another silencing spell cracked in the air, and Voldemort continued to tell them all how Harry—no, _lie_ to them that Harry had betrayed them all, had tried to run away. Their Harry had never run away from anything, He ran _into_ the danger.

There was a sudden commotion, and Hermione realized that Neville had literally launched himself at Voldemort. As proud of him as she was for taking a stand, she didn't want to see more people killed. She watched Voldemort force the burning Sorting Hat onto Neville's head. She wanted to turn away, needed to turn away, but she couldn't. And suddenly a spell was flying, and suddenly more spells were flying and self-preservation set in and she found herself dueling almost unconsciously.

They were losing, and terribly. Even with the reinforcements of the house elves they were failing miserably. All around her people were falling, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she went too. For a moment she almost wondered if she wouldn't welcome death, but then she remembered why she had to stay alive. That she had the key to defeating Voldemort. That it was up to her now. And Ron- Ron! She needed to get to Ron! She began searching frantically, holding off pursuers with quickly fired spells. She watched as Ginny fell to the ground, but barely stopped to spare it a thought. She worked her way to the other side of the hall, and there, there was Ron, lying slumped against the floor, his eyes glazed over as he held a profusely bleeding wound on his stomach.

"No, no no no, Ron, no!" She ran up to him and grabbed onto him. "Hang on, Ron, it'll be okay, hang on! "

"Er-my-knee," he groaned out.

She felt the moment his spirit left him. She was filled with an agony she had never imagined anyone could feel, and she wanted so terribly to give in to the urge to join them all in the afterlife. It would be so easy to let herself die, to let someone kill her, but even in grief her sense of responsibility remained. She knew what she had to do. She began to fight her way toward the Forbidden Forest, dodging and firing curses with the skill only an experienced fighter could possess. One step into the Forest, that's all she needed. She felt a curse pass narrowly by her shoulder and saw a flash of green light nearby. So close. She began to run, dodging left and right, zigzagging through the remaining fighters with an accuracy due almost more to pure luck than skill.

And then she was beyond the boundary of the Forbidden Forest, and she cried out the words that would activate the portkey: _"Mors aequo!" _Death as an equal.

She landed on a pristine lawn outside of a mansion too small to be considered sprawling, but large nonetheless. There was a clicking noise and she turned to find a silver-haired man in a suit pointing a gun in her face.  
>"Who are you?" the man demanded.<p>

As calmly as she could, she responded, "My name is Hermione Granger. I am a friend of Molly Prewett Weasley. And I am here to see Jenny Shephard."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I forgot to mention last time, if you haven't yet figured it out, I'm screwing with the timeline of NCIS characters a little. We know that the war occurred in 1997, which means that it was just Gibbs and DiNozzo, and no Director Shephard, but for the purposes of this story Director Shephard made more sense. Also, I love McGee and Ziva too much to leave them out. Yes, I know that using Kate would at least be closer to cannon timeline, but… Sorry, I just like Ziva more. ^_^

Also, I'm kind of writing this in show format. At the beginning and end of each chapter is where the photos, or "phoofs" go. If anyone would like to design these "phoofs", I would be totally in love with you forever, and give you lots and lots of virtual cookies. And of course, link to them in the story.

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><p>Leroy Jethro Gibbs was never surprised by anything. He was a Marine that had been through battle, and a man who had lost his family. He was an NCIS agent that dealt with insane, bizarre, dangerous and just plain wacky people on a regular basis. But seeing a girl randomly appear out of thin air? That was a new one.<p>

He acted on instinct and pulled out his gun. He'd always been more of a "shoot first, ask questions later" kind of guy. Taking a good look at the girl from behind his Sig, it was easy to see that she had been through hell. Her clothes were torn and bloody, she was covered in scrapes and bruises and she had the look in her eyes of someone who had recently experienced immense pain and loss. He knew that look well. He saw it on the faces of victims' families often, and had even found it on his own visage whenever he had accidentally caught sight of his reflection in the time following Shannon and Kelly's deaths.

"Who are you?" Gibbs asked.

In a shaky voice, the girl replied, "My name is Hermione Granger. I am a friend of Molly Prewett Weasley. And I am here to see Jenny Shephard."

She was here to see the Director? Strange. "Is she expecting you?"

"I don't— I don't know," the girl named Hermione answered timidly.

"What business do you have with Director Shephard?"

"I can't tell you. Only that it's important, and I need to see her right away," Hermione pleaded.

This was getting stranger and stranger. It could be some sort of trap, Gibbs mused. But his gut told him it wasn't. The girl was sincere, that much he could tell. What her relation was to Jenny? He could only guess. A relative, maybe?

"I'll see if she's available," was all he said.

"Please, just mention the name Molly Prewett. She'll know who it is," Hermione told him.

Gibbs studied her for one moment more, then turned and walked away, in the direction he had been coming before a girl popped out of nowhere and shook up his afternoon.

The inside of Shephard Manor was everything Gibbs hated. Stuffy, covered in expensive antiques and relics, furniture that was too costly to sit on, nothing that encouraged comfort or relaxation. He had never been able to understand how anyone could live in a house like this. But then, most people never understood how he could live the way he did, so who was he to judge? What was the saying? "To each his own," or something like that.

It didn't take long to find the study that he had only exited a few minutes prior.

"Jethro?" Jenny Shephard greeted him in a surprised tone, looking up from the paperwork scattered across her antique desk. "Did you forget something?"

"Care to tell me why there's a girl on your front lawn that looks like she's just been attacked asking to see you?" Gibbs got straight to the point.

"_What?"_ Jenny's face and tone belied her shock.

"Said her name was Hermione Granger, begged me to see you. Said to mention the name 'Molly Prewett'. She said it would mean something to you." Gibbs watched the Director's face carefully for any hint of a reaction, and he was not disappointed.

A flash of recognition crossed her face, followed by surprise, and then that distant look in her eyes that suggested she was remembering something from a long time ago.

"Jenn?" he prodded.

Pulled from her trance, Director Shephard immediately schooled her features back into the mask she often wore at work when dealing with sensitive information, completely unreadable.

"Bring her up."

"Am I missing something here?" Gibbs asked, hiding his surprise at her reaction.

"Jethro, please. Just bring her up."

Gibbs stared at Jenny's face for a moment, before turning and leaving the office.

When he got back to the lawn, he found Hermione waiting for him in exactly the same spot he had left her, as though she had been afraid to move anywhere else. He noticed that she was constantly looking around her, watching her surroundings, and seemed unable to remain still.

"Follow me," was all he said.

Without a question or comment, she followed. He observed her as they walked through the house. She did not seem to take any notice of her surroundings, other than to occasionally check behind herself as though she expected to be followed. If she was in any pain from her numerous cuts and other ailments, she seemed not to notice.

Gibbs stopped outside the study and tapped on the door to announce their presence. If it was just himself, he wouldn't have bothered, but he wanted Jenny to be prepared for the visitor, just in case. One could never be too cautious, of course.

"Come in," Jenny called.

He ushered Hermione in first, following close behind her, hand inching toward his weapon. Even though his gut told him she wasn't dangerous, Gibbs always took the precaution of being near his weapon in the company of strangers.

"Mrs. Shephard," Hermione began.

"Ms. Shephard," Jenny corrected.

"Ms. Shephard," Hermione acknowledged. "My name is Hermione Granger. I am sorry to disturb you, but I have a matter of much importance to discuss."

"You said Molly Prewett sent you," Jenny prompted.

"In a manner of speaking," was Hermione's hesitant response.

"In a manner of speaking?" Jenny questioned.

"When did you last speak to Molly?" Hermione asked.

"A few months ago. We've been pen pals; we've kept in touch fairly regularly since our teenage years. It's been a long time since I've heard from her, she never answered my last letter."

"She was in hiding," Hermione said.

"Hiding? From what?" Jenny queried, surprise on her face.

"That's what I'm here to discuss," Hermione answered.

"Why didn't she come along as well? Why are you alone?"

At this, Hermione broke down in tears.

"B-because th-th-they're all d-dead! I'm th-the l-l-last one." And with that, Hermione collapsed on the ground, sobbing.

Gibbs looked to Jenny, who appeared frozen in a state of shock.

What the hell was going on here?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm warning you now, most of you prolly won't like this chapter. I tried, I did. But I didn't know how to gloss over all the back-story without making it seem incomplete and rushed. But instead of rushed, it ended up dragging. If anyone has any suggestions for how to make this chapter better, I am so, so open to them. It will certainly pick up from here though. Thanks guys.

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><p>"I'm so s-s-sorry," Hermione hiccupped. "It's just..." She cut herself off with a particularly loud sob. Unsure of how Hermione would react to being comforted, Jenny simply waited for her to calm herself. Gibbs watched the scene, but said nothing. When Hermione had calmed down enough that she was coherent, Jenny spoke again.<p>

"I'm so sorry for your loss, and I hate to sound insensitive, but perhaps it's best if you start from the beginning."

"Of- of course," Hermione agreed shakily. "Well-" She paused as if uncertain. "How much did Molly Weas- Molly Prewett, how much did she tell you about herself?"

"I'm not entirely sure how that is prevalent," Director Shephard countered.

"Well, it's just, I'm not sure what you do and do not know, so I don't know where I should-"

"Oh, yes, of course," Jenny replied, seeing the girl's point. "Well, we shared a lot of… personal things, mostly about our lives and our education."

"What exactly did she tell you about her school?" Hermione prodded.

"I remember her mentioning that it was a boarding school somewhere in Scotland for gifted children, and that a class she was taking required a pen-pal writing program as part of the curriculum, which is how we knew each other. We never had a chance to meet face to face, I was invited to her wedding, but was called away on… business, at the last moment."

"Gifted children," Hermione sighed.

"What's the matter?" Jenny asked.

"I don't even know where to- You're not going to believe a word I'm about to tell you, and I don't have time to be locked away in an institution. I'll have to… I never quite expected this predicament." Hermione seemed to be talking more to herself than the people in the room.

"What predicament would that be, exactly?" Jenny pressed, when it seemed that the girl was not going to continue speaking.

Hermione did not respond right away. Instead, she pulled what looked like a small stick out of her sleeve. As she did so, Gibbs and Jenny immediately tensed, expecting danger. Hermione sighed, turned to a paperweight on the Director's desk, and cast a simple levitation spell. There was a moment of silence as Gibbs and Jenny stared, transfixed, at the floating paperweight. Hermione was lost in her own mind as she recalled the day she learned the spell, when Ron had said those horrible things about her… Ron…

She let out a sob and suddenly the paperweight exploded into pieces. At the blast Gibbs immediately pulled out his weapon and pointed it at her.

"Oh! Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed. "Just let me, here, _Reparo!_" The pieces of paperweight immediately zoomed back together, and Hermione directed it carefully back to its place on the desk.

Director Shephard was staring open-mouthed, while Gibbs still had his SIG trained on Hermione.

"I guess I had better explain things now."

"I'll say," Gibbs commented, and Jenny knew it was a mark of how shocked he was that he had said anything at all.

"You can put your gun down, I'm putting it away," Hermione acknowledged Gibbs. "Ms. Shephard, do you mind if I," she indicated the seat with a small incline of her head. "It's a rather long story."

"Certainly. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Some water would be nice, thank you." The Director poured them each a glass of water from a pitcher nearby her desk. She turned to ask Gibbs if he would like any, and he simply shook his head before she could even get the words out.

After they were settled in their chairs (Gibbs opted to remain standing), Jenny turned to Hermione. "How about you tell me how it is you just did… whatever it was you were doing?"

"Yes, I am sorry about that, I didn't mean to startle you, it's just, there was no other way you would have believed it."

"Believed what?"

"Well you see, I'm a witch, and so is Molly Weas- Prewett. The "school for the gifted" she attended was actually a school for magic."

"You're right, I probably wouldn't have believed it," Jenny agreed. A thought struck her. "How many of you are there? How come I've never come across a witch before?"

"There are actually wizards as well- that's what they call the men. As to how many of us there are, that's hard to say. They never have been able to get accurate numbers from some of the more barbaric tribes in Central Africa and South America. The tribesmen were too hostile, you see. But there are several hundred thousand of us throughout Europe, Asia, and the United States."

"Several hundred thousand? And how is it that none of us non-witches and wizards-"

"Muggles," Hermione supplied helpfully.

"Muggles?" the Director repeated, confused.

"That's what we call non-magical people."

"Oh, I see. So how is it that none of us… _muggles_ have ever come across you before?"

"There was an International Statute of Secrecy instituted in 1692. It was mostly to protect us from the high rise of witch burnings and the negative view muggles had developed of our kind. Basically, each wizarding government was responsible for controlling their population and making sure that they stayed hidden from muggles."

"And in those hundreds of years, no one has slipped up?" Jenny was skeptical.

"Of course they have. We've developed memory modification charms to make muggles forget what they see. Of course, sometimes there were large scale events such as explosions that had to be explained away, and it's never foolproof, but imagine, if some person walked up to you claiming to have seen a dragon, what would you say?" Hermione politely explained.

"Ah," was the Director's response. "So, you're a witch, and Molly Prewett was a witch. You went to a school for magic people. How did you end up here?"

"This is where it gets a little more complicated," Hermione sighed sadly. "If you need me to clarify anything, just let me know."

The director nodded at her to continue.

"Well, just like with all people, there are good wizards and bad wizards. Some are just rule breakers, petty criminals, but some, some are truly unspeakably evil. So evil that you couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors they are capable of."

"I already don't like where this is going," Director Shephard commented. Hermione just smiled sadly at her and continued.

"Years ago, a boy was born. His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle…" Hermione began with an explanation of Tom's childhood, doing her best not to leave out any potentially important details.

"And by the time Tom graduated from Hogwarts, he had committed the murder of his father and paternal grandparents and an unfortunate muggleborn girl-"

"Muggleborn?" Jenny interrupted.

"A muggleborn is someone whose parents are both muggles. A half-blood is someone with one muggle parent and one magical parent, and a pureblood is someone who is descended from a lineage of magical generations."

Jenny nodded in understanding, and Hermione continued.

"He was responsible for the death of the muggleborn girl at the school who had come into contact with a Basilisk – a giant snake with eyes that kill. And by the time he left Hogwarts, he had taken a different name." Hermione hesitated.

"What was it? The name?" Jenny prompted.

"I can't tell you. It's rigged, there's a, a sort of spell on it. If I say it aloud, they will know. They will know where to find us."

"Who will know?" Jenny interjected.

"I'm getting there. Do you have a pen? I could write it down… Although, I haven't tried before, so I don't know what will happen if… But there's no spell that could possibly track every single piece of paper in the world. It should be safe."

"Is it that important to know?" Jenny asked.

"Well, he _is_ basically the central character in all of this. We'll just call him Lord V. for now and come back to it later.

"So this Lord V, he murdered his father and grandparents, and no one ever suspected a thing?"

"They were muggles. Wizards had no reason to look into their death. And muggle experts were forever baffled that three healthy people dropped dead for seemingly no reason. The case was never solved. As for the girl at Hogwarts, the cause of her death was never discovered until many years later."

"So what happened after Lord V left Hogwarts?" Jenny asked.

"He laid low for a few years, gathering followers, building his army of Death Eaters. It was full of Purebloods, many of whom believed, and still do believe, that because they are descended from long lines of magical ancestors, they are better than half-bloods or muggleborns. It is a senseless rhetoric, in fact a fallacy, as most of the purebloods have inbreeded to keep their magical lines alive and in the "right families", which has led to poorer magical abilities in recent generations. But that is neither here nor there.

"Lord V convinced these pureblood followers that the race needed to be purged of muggleborns, who, he said, were an abomination and were undeserving of magic."

"Like Hitler and the Holocaust," Jenny supplied.

"Exactly," Hermione agreed.

Hermione went on to tell of the horrors of the first wizarding war, and of its end. When she mentioned Harry, she became extremely emotional and had to take a moment to calm herself.

"Was this Harry important to you?" the Director questioned.

"He was my best friend," Hermione sniffled. She told Jenny how Harry "defeated" Voldemort as a baby, how his mother's love saved his life. She told the Director of Harry's fame in the wizarding world, and of his terrible childhood. She spoke of their adventures at school, Harry's close calls with Voldemort, and how the evil wizard finally came back at the end of their fourth year.

"Why was this evil wizard so concerned with a child?"

"You have to understand that Harry is the only person who has ever, and I mean _ever_, survived a killing curse. Lord V fancies himself the most powerful wizard who ever lived, and he's not too far from the mark, but I'm sure it absolutely angered him that he was bested by a year-old child. In all these altercations, Harry always eked his way out," Hermione explained.

She went on to tell of their tumultuous fifth year, of how no one wanted to believe Lord V was truly back, and so made Harry out to be a liar. She told of the prophecy, of Harry's destiny to defeat Voldemort.

She told of sixth year and of Dumbledore's death. She told of the hunt for horcruxes the following year, doing her best to explain the terrible dark magic involved in splitting one's soul, and how Lord V had done it not once, but seven times. At this bit of information, Director Shephard paled significantly. Hermione explained how they had destroyed all but the last two horcruxes. She explained that Lord V's pet snake was the sixth, and that they had been unable to get near enough to the well-protected creature to kill it.

And then she explained how her beloved Harry was the seventh horcrux, one Voldemort never intended to make. She explained how they thought that if Voldemort cast the killing curse at Harry, it would have merely removed the piece of Voldemort's soul, but left Harry alive. Hermione was crying openly at this point, trying to keep herself together just enough to finish.

She told them of the battle at Hogwarts, where everyone she knew, all of her friends and magical family, had lost, how so many of them had perished. Of how she had taken the last resort, the portkey, and had ended up where she was. How Molly had given it to her and the boys as an emergency tool. And when she had finally said all that there was to say, she fell silent, exhausted.

"So what do you think will happen now that Lord V has won?" Jenny queried.

"I imagine it will be only a short amount of time before he goes on to try to conquer the rest of the magical communities, and possibly an even shorter time before he reveals himself to muggles. And believe me, it will be deadly and more horrible than you can possibly imagine. No one will be spared, and he won't stop until he has annihilated everyone who stands in his way."

"Well then, I guess there's no time to waste, is there." Jenny turned to look at Gibbs, who was looking at them both with a stony expression on his face.

"Gibbs, how soon can you have your team assembled here?"


End file.
